


Primal Instincts

by KitsunesKnight



Series: The Awoken Wanderers - FFXIV Stories [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29551023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsunesKnight/pseuds/KitsunesKnight
Summary: Logan's attempts to train as a dragoon don't seem to be going well until he tries a new approach. It seems to work, to his elation, but what will the side effects of this new strategy be?
Relationships: Logan Holden (OC)/Aiko Slanda (OC), Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)/Original Character(s)
Series: The Awoken Wanderers - FFXIV Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/781317
Kudos: 1





	Primal Instincts

“Try it again,” Cherise said.

Logan gripped his lance, closed his eyes, and tried to find the power of the Eye flowing from his crystal. He tried to find that draconic power. He could see it, but whenever he tried to reach for it, it slid away. Like it was scared of him. Or maybe he was scared of it.

Logan inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped open. He looked at Cherise who shook her head.

“Nothing.”

He sighed and planted his lance on the ground with more force than necessary. “What am I doing wrong? I can see it, I know what I'm supposed to do, but it's not working! The crystal even showed me!”

Beside his sister stood Alberic, a Hyur who used to hold the title of the Azure Dragoon, now held by Estinien. The three stood together in a training area for Ishgardian knights, graciously offered to them by Aymeric, as long as they followed the same rules and scheduled their time like every other training group.

The older man seemed to have a sudden idea and turned Cherise aside for a moment, the two talking low enough that William couldn't overhear much.

“You had mentioned… Could be the only way…”

“No… to him…”

“Cherise…”

“...Don't like…”

They paused, and Cherise sighed and turned back to Logan. “I'm going to ask you to do something you're not going to like.”

Logan frowned. “What?”

She seemed pained to respond. “We think you need to tap into your connection with Bahamut. Whatever happened to you during the Calamity, and later when we found him in Dalamud’s ruins…”

“We think you have a connection stronger to him than Nidhogg’s eye,” Alberic finished, as Cherise trailed off. “The crystal shows you only a connection to the Eye, but you might need something else. Try it.”

Logan looked from Alberic to Cherise. His sister wouldn't look at him. He had been a lot better around dragons since they'd faced Bahamut, that was true. He'd faced off against Nidhogg, and argued with Hraesvalgr, become a linchpin in the Dragonsong War. But he was still afraid. Maybe that was why he couldn't reach the power. It wasn't moving away from him, maybe he was moving away from it.

“Okay,” he said finally, taking a deep breath. “I'll try it.”

Cherise finally looked up at him and they shared a glance. She didn't really want him to, he didn't have to. He assured her it was fine, he wanted to try, he wanted this to work. She relented. All in a glance. Having a twin sister had its perks sometimes.

“Good luck…” Cherise said quietly.

He closed his eyes again, lance gripped tight and held at the ready. Once again he could see the power, but he largely ignored it. Instead he looked around for something else, for that fear he'd felt when he first laid eyes on Bahamut. He found it, circling above, as if waiting for him to notice. He reached for it, but it snapped at him, and Logan drew back. He could see it now though, he was the one retreating, not the power, he was scared, afraid of this primal essence and of letting it in. This was far more than facing a foe on the battlefield.

But… had he not determined to stop letting fear sway him from moving forward? No, he had to do this. Logan reached out again, and when Bahamut struck out at him, Logan found a spear in his hand and struck back. Bahamut melted into a glowing essence that overtook his spear, then his arm, then flowed over him completely.

Logan's eyes snapped open. He could feel the new energy swirling around him, and he looked over at Cherise and Alberic. Their eyes were wide, surprised.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You did it!” Alberic said with a grin.

“I can't believe that worked…” Cherise breathed. She then took a moment to compose herself and spoke louder. “Okay, now try to focus all that into a jump on a target. You should find that you can hit it much-”

Before she could even finish, Logan leapt into the air, then came flying back down, his spear ripping through the practice dummy on the other side of the training ground. He leapt back and landed smoothly, took a moment to ensure everything felt okay, then looked back at his dragoon mentors.

“Like that? That definitely felt stronger!” He said excitedly.

“Yes!” Alberic exclaimed, and seemed overjoyed that Logan had managed to progress.

Cherise looked more unsure however. “Yeah, pretty much that. There's more to it, but keep practicing that. The crystal will show you more when you're ready for it. For now, go take a break.”

Logan blinked. A break? But he just- “Wait, what time is it?” He asked suddenly.

“Why? I mean…” Cherise looked into the sky. “Not far past noon?”

“Ooh, I gotta go!” Logan said, running past both of them, practically tossing his spear to Cherise on his way past. “Meeting thing they wanted me at, Warrior of Light stuff!”

“Logan, wait a second!” Cherise called after him, but he just gave her a wave and ran out of the practice yard. “What does he think I am, his personal assistant!? ...And what was that golden glow…?” She muttered that last bit under her breath.

Alberic gave her a careful look. “I don’t know, but it can’t be that bad can it?”

She gave him a hard glare in return, which put him on his heels. She stormed over to the weapon rack and all but tossed the lance back into its place before leaving Alberic shrugging in the middle of the practice field.

“He's going to get himself into trouble, isn't he…”

***

Hours later and Logan found himself slumped back into his chair half-listening to the most boring meeting he could’ve imagined. The new group of Ishgardian leaders were sitting around the table chatting away about various politics. More changes or policies that had to be thought of following the end of the war, or something like that. Logan had stopped paying attention mere minutes into the meeting.

He knew the others often complained about how much the Warriors of Light were abused for menial tasks, but he'd never thought it was that bad. Not until now, anyway. He wanted to _do_ something. Not sit around, he wanted a _fight_. That's what he was good at, right? He was, after all, a _Warrior_ of Light. He needed to take something on, head to head, fight it, win. Like that Ishgardian knight at the door. He could beat him. He could rip him apart. Into shreds, literally, sink his blade into him and watch him-

“Logan!?”

Aymeric’s startled voice snapped Logan back to attention, and he found he was leaning far over the table, fists clenched, staring at the knight at the door, who, even with his helmet on, looked terrified.

“Wh... what?” Logan stuttered, leaning back in his chair, wondering what had just happened. “What were we talking about?”

There was a brief pause before Aymeric slowly continued. “We were just talking about how it might do some good for you to make an appearance at-”

“ _An appearance!?_ ” Logan snapped back, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table. “I sat here for hours just so you could announce that I'm to be paraded around again!?”

His anger leapt back to a boiling point, and a part of him wondered why he was so angry, but most of him didn't care. He was so tired of being looked at, shown off, _doing menial tasks_. He was a hero! Not a trophy!

“I… I simply thought-” Aymeric tried to respond, but Logan cut him off.

“Yeah, I bet you did. Forget it, I'm going home.”

And with that, Logan spun and left the room, giving one more terrifying glare to the knight at the door, who visibly recoiled. Logan's laugh echoed through the room as the door swung shut behind him.

Aymeric turned to Lucia. “See if you can track down the Wanderers. Something is not right here.”

The trusted knight nodded and she quickly hurried off through the door as well, while Aymeric began to try and smooth things over with the others.

***

“He did what!?” Cherise exclaimed.

“I know, that’s why I came looking for you,” Lucia confirmed with a solemn nod. “I thought you might be able to, er, handle him.”

Cherise stormed past the taller woman. “I’m gonna punch his brains out! What an idiot! What was he thinking!?” She stopped suddenly and spun around. “Wait, where did he say he was going?”

Lucia blinked, unsure how to handle the raging redhead. “Um. ‘Home’ I believe is what he said.”

Cherise didn’t move for a moment, thoughts racing, and then she spun on her heel and ran off again. “Oh hells, this might be bad.” As an afterthought, she looked over her shoulder back at Lucia. “Oh, and thanks!”

Lucia sighed and began walking back to the meeting room. “Siblings,” she muttered with a small shake of her head and just the slightest hint of a smile.

***

“Hello?” Cherise called into the currently empty house belonging to Awoken Wanderers.

Their headquarters in the Mist had been somewhat abandoned after the events in Ul’dah, and with the Dragonsong War going on in Ishgard they hadn’t had time to reassemble everyone and get it up and running again. A few of them still lived here however, though they often spent most of their time away. But if Logan was headed “home”, this is where Cherise believed he’d end up.

No one answered her call however, so she opened the door leading to the private rooms, found Logan’s, and knocked. “Logan, are you in there?”

The door opened and Aiko stood in the doorway, holding a bedsheet up to her otherwise naked body. “Oh!” Cherise immediately took a step back and looked at the ceiling.

“Yeeees?” The Miqo’te asked, her voice a bit airy.

Cherise cleared her throat but continued, avoiding looking forward. “Um. Did, uh, Logan come here?” The answer seemed obvious, but she asked anyway.

“Yes. He. Did,” Aiko answered, as if answering an entirely different question.

“Ooookay, nope, oh gods, no, no,” Cherise shook her head and stepped away from the doorway, pointing past Aiko and into the room. “No, go put clothes on, I need to talk to you and this isn’t working, or happening, just. Oh Twelve, no.”

Aiko laughed a little as Cherise made a few gagging noises, but did indeed go back inside and shut the door.

“List of things I did _not_ need to see or hear or imagine, ugh…” Cherise muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead as if it may remove the memory from her mind as she walked back to the main room of the house. 

A few moments later Aiko reappeared looking back to her full senses, and fully clothed, much to Cherise’s relief. “Alright Cherise, what’s wrong?” She asked.

The Hyur crossed her arms and scowled. “Well you saw Logan didn’t you? Isn’t there something wrong with him? Acting oddly?”

“Well I was a bit distracted,” Aiko said, the slightest hint of a purr in her voice bringing out another gag from Cherise. “Though I do have to admit there did seem something a bit odd about him. And familiar, too, actually… I can’t place it though… What's going on with him anyway?”

“He…” Cherise hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “He used a technique called Blood of the Dragon, which usually uses power from Nidhogg’s eye. But he never interacted with them, not enough. So… he used Bahamut’s aether instead.”

Aiko’s eyes widened. “That's what felt familiar! He was practically drowning in Bahamut's aether! Cherise that could be incredibly dangerous!”

“No shit!” Cherise flung out her arms. “What do you think I'm doing!? Now did he say where he was going when he left?

Aiko hummed, tapping a finger against her lips. “Mmm… No… I think he mentioned he was hungry though?”

“Oh boy…” Cherise groaned. “There’s only one place in all La Noscea he’ll go if he’s hungry.”

“The Drowning Wench,” they said together.

***

Cherise and Aiko weren’t even halfway up the stairs to the second level of Limsa Lominsa when they heard the fighting. They didn’t even trade a glance before charging up the stairs. When they turned the corner the Drowning Wench was living up to its namesake, ale covered the floor, at least three men were unconscious, a pair of barmaids were hiding behind their serving trays, and Baderon came up from behind the bar to spot the two women.

Right in the center of the brawl, which consisted of at least ten men and a few women, was Logan. He was unarmoured and unarmed, but attacking anyone who came too close like a rabid, cornered animal.

“You two!” Baderon called out, gesturing to the pair. “Ge’ o’er here!”

Without hesitation Cherise and Aiko slipped along the wall and jumped the bar, crouching down next to Baderon.

“Wha’ in th’ seven ‘ells is goin’ on wit’ yer brother?” Baderon demanded of Cherise.

“Long story,” she answered. “What happened?”

“No idea. One momen’ e’ry thing was fine, an’ then bam! Chaos like I 'aven’t seen since th’ Calamity!”

“Okay, well stay down, we'll handle him.”

“Gladly!”

Aiko turned to Cherise. “How do we even stop… whatever this is?”

Cherise paused. “I’m… not sure. Usually it takes some effort to keep it up, and I never told him how. I’m not sure how he’s kept it going so long…”

“I could be the first to tell you that if he’s channeling Bahamut he could be going for awhile,” Aiko explained, pulling out her tome and flipping through some pages.

“Great, so what, just tie him down until he calms down?” Cherise asked as she heard a heavy thud that must've been a combatant dropping unconscious.

“Mmm, as much as I might like that-”

“Do not.”

“-I think I might be able to put him in a trance and possibly siphon it off.” Aiko pointed to a page of her tome, but Cherise didn't understand a thing on it. “But you will still need to knock him down. I'll need time.”

“Knocking down I can do,” Cherise nodded, punching a fist into her palm. “Get ready.”

With that, Cherise jumped up on the bar and shouted. “Hey! Logan! You want a fight, I'm right here!”

The fight paused and Cherise got a closer look at her brother. There was a faint glow of orange and gold, the effects of Bahamut's aether. But worse was the savage look in Logan's eyes, a look that did not belong to him. It hurt to see, but only steeled her resolve. The other fighters broke off, sensing a battle they shouldn't be a part of, and Logan stared down Cherise. A calm silence came over the tavern as everyone waited to see what would happen.

Then both of them dashed forward. Cherise slammed into Logan, but he caught her by the shoulders and simply slid back, growling and then tossing her across the rest of the room. She skittered to a halt on all fours, wiping her hands of the ale on her jacket. He shouted wordlessly and charged at her again, but she sidestepped him, grabbed his shoulder, and threw him into the wall. He smashed into it, bounced off of it, turned with a snarl, and took a fist to the face. Just like that Logan was laid down flat on the floor.

“Aiko, now!” Cherise shouted.

Aiko leapt over the bar, held out one hand, and muttered incantations from the book she held in the other. The golden-orange glow representing Bahamut’s aether flowed from Logan and into Aiko’s outstretched palm. She squeezed it shut and the aether dissipated.

Cherise kneeled down by her brother and checked his breathing. “Did it work?” It was even, he seemed okay.

“I think so,” Aiko said, sounding unsure. “I mean, it did what it was supposed to do, but whether it worked to keep him from being… whatever that was, we won’t know until he wakes up.”

Cherise sighed and nodded. “Well, help me get him back home then. We wouldn’t want him to break out of the inn rooms and terrorize the bar patrons again.”

Baderon, now back on his feet and turning tables back upright looked up at Cherise and nodded. “Aye, get ‘im ‘ome, I can take care o’ things ‘ere. Twelve knows ‘e’s done loads for us, a messy bar ain’t nothin’.”

***

Logan stirred and sat up. His head felt like paste, that his brain was flopping about inside his skull. What had happened anyway? Last thing he remembered was storming out of the meeting in Ishgard.

“He’s awake!” Aiko’s voice called, though Logan refused to open his eyes just yet.

“How is he?” Cherise’s voice called back from somewhere further away.

“Stop yelling…” Logan complained, attempting to wave his hand at them but finding lifting his arm to be somewhat difficult.

The next thing he felt was Aiko’s cool hand stroke the side of his face. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked softly.

“No… What hit me…?” Logan mumbled.

“That was Cherise,” Aiko said with a hint of laughter to her voice. “But you’re okay? You don’t feel um… Like you want to pick a fight or anything?”

“What? No, the thought of that just makes my head hurt more…” Logan groaned.

Lips touched his forehead. “Good. Then lay here and rest.”

“But what happened? I don’t remember anything after the meeting…” Logan insisted.

He heard someone enter the room, and Cherise’s voice was heard again, much closer. “I think it was the blood of the dragon skill… I think Bahamut’s aether took you over or something. The ability is supposed to give you extra power and combat instincts, but it does mean giving a bit of yourself over to the primal instincts of the dragon. I guess in your case it was just too much…”

Logan felt the bed sink a little as Cherise must’ve sat down next to him. “So… so what… happened…?” He almost didn’t want to know, and felt his stomach sinking.

“Well…” Cherise started. “You stormed out of the meeting in Ishgard enough to scare half the people in the room and insult the other half.” Logan groaned. “Then you came here and, uh…”

There was an awkward pause and Logan swore he felt the bed shake a little.

“You spent some time with me,” Aiko said simply, her tone pleased, though Logan felt immense disapproval from Cherise, even without seeing her. 

Cherise cleared her throat. “Then you went to the Drowning Wench where you, apparently, ate more than Baderon’s seen a man eat, save for a 'starving bilgerat’, then no one’s quite sure what happened, but a fight broke out, you knocked four people unconscious - yes, they’ll be fine - and I had to smash your head into a wall to knock you out and let Aiko pull some of Bahamut’s aether off of you.”

Logan swallowed deeply. “I… did all that?” He started to shake his head but thought better of it immediately. “Just because of that dragoon ability?”

“I…” Cherise started.

“It seems so,” Aiko confirmed. “As someone with experience, Bahamut’s aether is not to be taken lightly. You just weren’t prepared. I can help you with it, if you want.”

“...Sure…” Logan said, not sounding sure at all.

There was a brief silence. “Get some rest,” Cherise said softly, and Logan felt her fingers brush his hair.

“We’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Aiko confirmed, planting her lips upon his forehead once more.

“Okay.”

Logan listened to them leave. He’d be impressed at their ability to work together, but he was far too distracted by his missing memories and the story Cherise had just told him. He’d spent so much time rebuilding their reputation after Ul’dah, and now this. Could he even truly manage the power of the dragoon if this was a possible result? Was it responsible of him to even try? He’d been so scared of Bahamut both in the past and present, even if he had overcome much of his fear. Despite his insistence to no longer act out of fear, maybe this was one act of caution he should heed.

Maybe he should just give up on becoming a dragoon.


End file.
